Lost
by Clearly am Intrigued
Summary: The day flight 175 crashed hundreds where affected.Only few survived. In a world with no rules, only chaos. Who can you trust? When everyone's hiding thier own dirty little secret.Can they save themselves before it's too late?Or will they forever be lost?
1. Flying Without Wings

So I've been in a very long writing funk. But, am back.

This idea came to me when I was for the 1st time this week watching the TV series lost. I've only seen the 1st disk which I borrowed from a friend. Anyway I thought how cool would it be if Smallville character's crash landed on an island and this is what I came up with, am not too happy with the 1st chapter but it will get better later on. 1st chapter always suck

**PLEASE READ**

****This story will contain every single Smallville character that aired in more than one episode from season 1-7. I do not own Smallville. This is an AU-ish story. I know it's a lot of character's to play with but if you remember at least 48 survived the 1****st**** crash in lost. Don't know much about plane so sorry for anything that doesn't make sense. **

**HAPPY READINGS !**

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><p><em><strong>Flying Without Wings<strong>_

(On-board flight 175)

With a sigh the muscular young man ran his fingers through his dark hair, starring at the door that was still marked occupied in red. He turned around to face the same on the door opposite, he gave up. Maybe there'd be better luck with the toilets located in the middle of the plane. He turned once more intending to head in that direction and accidently bumped into-

"Hey watch it." His quick reflects allowed him to catch the young woman he accidently bowled over. He found himself starring directly into those hazel-green eyes.

"Yeah, you can let go now handsy." The sarcastic tone was carried out with a perfectly raised eyebrow and an annoyingly patronising look waiting for him too..? It took a couple of seconds for realisation to dawn on Clark. He was still holding her and due to his tall height when he caught her hands landed dangerously close to... actually more like definitely touching her...? Blushing bright red he immediately let go. She stumbled a little trying to catch her balance which wasn't that easy with the very expensive four inch pair of heels she was wearing.

"I'm so sorry." He started "I didn't realise-". She held a hand stopping him short. He stopped talking fidgeting a little while she took the time to fix her blouse and combed her hands through her light brown hair.

"I gotta give you props though. I know these are great." She said, giving a quick glance to her breast and Clark flushed a shade deeper. "But, Most guys go through at least an introduction first and a couple of dates _before _trying to get to second base."

"No seriously i had no-, I... I didn't -"this was frustrating, it was like he was a freshmen in high school. "Listen I -" Of course once he found the words she stopped him.

"No worries stutter. Let's forget this ever happened, that way I _won't_ have to file for sexual assault." She finished with a cocky smile. Pushing his frustrations aside he mumbled a quick "I've got to go" before he brushed past her and hurrying towards the direction he was originally heading.

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><p>Lois watched him hurry away not bothering to hide the shameless smile that graced her face.<p>

_Nice_.

To be honest she hadn't mind being groped by tall, dark and...? She tilted her head slightly sideways getting a better view of his ass.

_Snap out of it Lane_, _honestly the guy hadn't been able to get even a sentence out_.

She had been with more attractive and successful man than stutter over there.

The door previously marked occupied opened distracting Lois from all thoughts of stutter. A slender, brunette tried to shove her make-up, facial products and toiletries into her oversized bag. She looked to be in her late 20's. Her dress -which Lois was positively jealous of- hugged her figure. It was long pooling around her feet, the material was ruby red and silky, extremely low cleavage, and absolutely no back at all. It literally ended just above her buttocks.

"Excuse me?" Miss beauty pageant pushed past, not even sparring a second glance.

"Sure, cause clearly I _don't_ mind being treated like a second rate citizen" Lois muttered mimicking Miss Pageants posh British accent. Beauty either didn't care or didn't hear. Lois slammed the cubicle door shut as she headed the same way stutter did.

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><p>As Beauty strut pass she let a smirk grace her red gloss lips. She had seen the look that girl gave her; it was the same look dozens of woman have given her. Jealousy, envy and she never got tired of it. She strolled down the aisles the smirk left her face quickly replaced by a flirty smile. He was cuuuuuuute.<p>

"I'm sorry" she purred, with a charming smile. "I'm in your way."

Handsome didn't seem to mine. His eyes lowered lingering to her cleavage.

"Victoria" she introduced herself. She found her eyes locked with his gorgeous blues.

"Whitney Foreman."

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><p>Two seats away a qualified college professor watched the young man next to him gulp down what had to be at least his 23rd litre of bottled water. He stared at the young man shocked, amazed, confused. The blond hadn't even left once to go to the toilet. His neighbour gave him a sheepish smile.<p>

"Got to stay hydrated, right?"

"Am sure" the Native American answered choosing to ignore the peculiar young man. And at that the professor went to finish his work, focusing on the laptop sitting on the food tray in front of him. Rather than the young man whose taste sadly enough choose to mix orange and green.

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><p>Pete watched the young man fidgeting next to him. Pulling his earphones out of his ears he turned to face the young man next to him.<p>

"You okay, man"

"Yeah, am good." The guy answered with a shaky smile. His knuckles whitened, as his grip tightened on the bag he'd held close throughout the entire flight. The dude opened his backpack rummaging through. Pete flicked through the playlist on his IPod trying not to look like he was peering in the dudes bag.

"I kinda need to-" The guy gestured and Pete nodded in understanding trying to keep a calm look on his face.

"Sure" he moved to allow the guy to pass through.

"Thanks."

Pete shook he's head he had to be wrong. Riiightttt! He could have sworn he saw in a plastic slip -the same as those you put sandwiches in- containing a needle paired with clear substance in a small bottle. It had to be medically subscribed. _You're fretting for nothing Ross_. Airport security checks for stuff like that. Right! Still he couldn't forget the guy's hand shaking uncontrollably, as his face tried to mask the look of someone who was scared of getting caught.

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><p>Genevieve Teague walked down the plane aisles, she was downright furious. How dare that cheap tart of a flight attendant treat <em>her<em> in such a way? A flight attendant. Her son tiredly tagged along behind her. He grabbed his mother's by the elbow.

"Seriously Mother you don't want to make a scene."

"I'll make as much of a scene as i want Jason." She snapped shrugging out of his grip. "And when I'm done with her-"

That's when the light went out...

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><p>Raya stood quietly, hidden in the shadows watching the man playing with machinery he clearly wasn't supposed to. As he turned to fiddle with another set of buttons she saw her face. She knew this man. Not even a man, this <em>thing<em>.

"You!" her shock was obvious. He answered without turning continuing to fiddle with the plane controls as though they were mere playthings.

"You know for a race who supposedly went extinct, you people just keep popping up all over the place." He didn't seem surprise to see her. It was more like he had been expecting her.

"But... you're dead. You were murdered"

"Well clearly-" He flicked another button "am still here."

Raya pushed past him to see what he was doing. She gasped in horror. She didn't know much about human machinery, but she knew enough.

"You're going to crash the plane." He smiled at the fear in her voice. "This is beyond you Brainiac. What use is it to you killing these people?" He still had that stupid smile on his face. He raised his hands to cradle her cheek and on instinct she grabbed the hand coming her way, twisting it and shoving it away from her. His smile turned into a satisfied smirk.

"Let me guess you're going to try to fight me, then attempt to save all these people and land the plane safely." He's tone was mocking and sarcastic. She starred at him fiercely letting him know she wasn't going to back down.

"There is no way am letting all those people die."

"Well then..." he started reaching into the inside pocket of the blazer he was wearing. She stared at him suspiciously as he pulled out a little black box.

"It's lucky i came prepared." He flicked the black box open.

Her feet collapsed under her and stomach clenched and churned. She felt a wave of nausea overcome her. Her face scrunched in a grimace, she felt as though her insides where being ripped apart. She staggered trying to get away from the glowing green. She was still trying to get away when he tilted her head back. Those rough hands brushing her blond hair aside uncovering her neck, made her feel worse. Finding a vein he forced the green substance through.

"Shhhhhh." He muttered as he not gently dumped her body on the floor.

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><p>Grant Gabriel looked down at the lady who had fallen asleep on his shoulder. It wasn't a peaceful rest to say the least. It looked like she was having some kind of a nightmare. He let her rest though, the bags under her eyes suggested she needed it. He brushed aside some of her dark hair that was in his face. He looked her over once more, the magazine she was reading before was digging into her stomach at the angle she was holding it. He gently removed the magazine out of her grip. And glanced over the page she dosed of at. It was some article about a new found medical treatment. Not exactly what he pegged to be her read, but, then again it wasn't as though he knew her.<p>

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><p>5 seats away Nell woke up in a dreamy haze as a flight attendant told her sit up and buckle-up. She grumbled at being woken from her well needed sleep. She was still blinking away sleep when same the attendant shoved an African American man in the previously vacant seat next to her. She glanced at young man in front of her. This wasn't his seat. He noticed her staring and offered her a smile. He was attractive though.<p>

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><p>Eric pushed his glasses further up his nose wondering if he needed a stronger prescription. Did he just see a ... a... dog run by. A dog... on a plane. He leaned over to the guy next to him<p>

"Did you see that dog?" The guy ignored him. And turned up the volume the action film he was watching. Eric scratched his head confused. A... dog.

The plane had gone dark. It was the end.

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><p>Then the lights blinked back on. Still she couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong. The plane rumbled and shook in a way planes were clearly not meant to. Her whole body jerked back and forth with the sheer force of it. The lights were off, and then a minute later it was back on again. She took in a sharp intake of air.<p>

"Are you okay?" The question was posed by a boy sitting to her left, only separated from her by the aisle. He looked around the same age as her. His short, light brown hair parted and combed neatly, a camera slung around his neck.

"I mean you look a little pale there" He must have thought she was confused by his question.

"I'm fine..." She began. The plane shook again, and she jolted in her seat.

"It's just turbulence" he offered with a weak smile. The look on his face suggested he was trying to convince himself as well. His blue eyes squeezed shut as the plane once more shook.

"Some turbulance, hey" She stated, God, he looked like he was going to be sick. "What's your name?" She asked. Trying to distract him from... what she wasn't entirely too sure.

"Jimmy." He squeaked. She nodded her head

"I'm Lana." The plane was really rumbling now. With a hiss and a pop, no warning other than that the oxygen masks tumbled down.

"Holy Shit" Someone from behind her cried "Were gonna die, were gonna die!" Ignoring whoever it was, she tried without undoing her seatbelt to grab her oxygen mask. Succeeding she placed it over her face, and turned to watch Jimmy shakily do the same

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><p>Alicia was frozen in fear. She tried to swallow the sheer panic that threatened to rise. She was going to die, the plane was going to crash and she was going to die. Around her people were crying, screaming so loud, she was starting to get a head ache. The flight attendants were trying to keep everybody calm and shove those standing into empty seats- They were failing, miserably. She gripped her seat tighter, trying to focus, trying to concentrate. The thing she hated the most about planes is that they were made of lead, Lead lined all the way through. Which meant she was stuck, she couldn't leave, and she was... trapped?<p>

This was unfamiliar territory for Alicia, she couldn't save herself, couldn't disappear, not this time. What use was her damn ability now? In front of her there was a man in his late 40's having a full blown panic attack, a dark skin woman sitting next to him was trying to calm him down rubbing soothing circles on his back. Alicia couldn't even bring herself to care. Why should she? What did it matter? After all, she was going to die. The worst part was no one was going to even miss her.

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><p>Something was wrong with the plane. His ears caught gossip from flight attendant passing along as much as they knew to co-workers words such as "unsure" and "mechanical failure" stuck out The girl seating next to him broke down and started crying. Tears streaked down her plump face. She reminded him of his daughter. Elizabeth. Oh god! He was never going to see his daughter again. In the corner of his eyes he saw a dark skinned man he was talking to earlier ignoring his oxygen mask and one hand unbuckle his seat belt, bolted out of his chair. John or something he's name was. Swann himself due to his paralysis couldn't do the same. He couldn't even move his goddamn legs... He couldn't say goodbye to his baby girl.<p>

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><p>Jimmy turned to look at the girl seating near him- Lana, She beautiful, downright sexy, her dark raven hair those huge green eyes. That sexy smile she flashed him earlier. The sound of machine grunting and groaning distracted his thoughts from all things Lana. Some flight attendants were still trying to help passengers with their oxygen masks. The scraping metal was so loud now it was deafening. All of a sudden the plane descended. Passengers and air crew alike felt gravities pull yanked them forward. He could hear the sound of metal ripping. The plane was falling and there was only so far it could fall until it crashed. So he did the only thing he could. An act he hadn't done since he was twelve. He prayed.<p>

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><p>Anyone standing outside of the plane would have seen electrical static. A small explosion before they lost the right wing completely. The plane dipped to the right as it felt the sheer force of gravities pull. Smokes and fumes poured engulfed the side of the plane. Two more explosions and the head, the middle and the tail separated completely. Parting completely. An outside observer would have told you that this was no accident. It was too organised<p>

Yet at the same time completely destructive. Chaotic. So many deaths. But, no one exept those on the flight witnessed such an event.

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><p>-I know what you're thinking this isn't all the Smallvile characters from season 1-7. The rest will appear later on. No not a second crash. Just introducing you to these characters for the moment being.<p>

Please review and tell me what you think- suggestions, ideas, shipping preferences, which characters you'd prefer to be killed later on. hahahaha

I love reviews It helps the writer give the reader what they want. So REVIEW- pretty please, No matter how long since a post I'll always read.


	2. Survivor

DISCLAIMER- I DO NOT OWN SMALLVILLE OR ANY OF THESE CHARACTERS.

A/N-Sorry. Sorry... Sorry I cannot stress how sorry I am it took me this long to get chap 2 out. I am ashamed of myself *looks at the floor shufling my shoe*. I hope that people do read this and enjoy it. I know that this has bad timing to be able to be enjoyed buy readers. But, I hope put so nmuch effort into it. So hopefully you read it.

*I would like to thank

**myallyway- **by pointing ou to me the few gramatical mistakes i missed. And your kind words

**whatweareafraidof**- For taking the time to read and review and generating ideas. Thank you.

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><p><em>Breathe, breathe in.<em>

She felt her legs collapse unable to hold her weight. Her body slumped to the ground; the rough bark of the tree she was leaning against scratched her back painfully on the way down. Her body automatically curled itself into the fatal position; her head slumped on her knees. She had seen the whole thing- the plane crash. She watched it happen.

Her mind kept flashing to her last moments on that plane. The feeling of being trapped, caged. She hadn't seen her life flash before her eyes like most people with near death experiences claimed to. She felt...terrified. The fear was so real, so gripping, so paralysing. She realised then that she didn't want to die. At the age of 21 she hadn't even began to live.

Then faith threw her a life lifeline.

She had known that the tail of the plane was gone, but she couldn't bring herself to look back. The plane was no longer enclosed which meant she was no longer trapped in this lead caged. So in a green mist she did what she did best, she disappeared. She didn't even think, didn't grab anything. It didn't even occur to her to try and save someone. Survival instinct took over. Next thing she knew she ended up here, on one of the most beautiful beaches she'd ever seen. It was paradise, one of those places you saw in brochures- A dream holiday.

This is where she watched the plane crash. Unable to close her eyes; unable to look away. Her very own eyes defying her command to look away, betraying her, forcing her to take in those _horrible _images. The grip of her arms tightened around her knees. She was fine. She kept reassuring herself. Even with her body shaking uncontrollably and the tears streaming down her face. She was safe. She was alive. Everybody else-_Oh God! Jesus_. Her chest heaved, she felt sick. She didn't want to think about the number...

_Breathe. _

_Breathe, Alicia, Breathe_

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><p>A.C enjoyed the peaceful, serene view. He felt the calmness wash over him. He watched as fishes of different colour, and sizes swam by, indifferent to his presence. This is why he loved the ocean, the cool against his body. He just wished everybody could see it that way- learn to appreciate it.<p>

The peace suddenly left him as quickly as it came. Dread took its place, as he saw a body sinking in his same calm ocean. It was a girl, her long brown hair floating around her. He swam; quickly reaching her his hands went around her waist. Not slowing down he pulled her to the surface. He wasn't expecting to see people running around screaming. The plane crashed.

He swam to shore pulling the body with him. Dragging her on the wet sand he ignored what was going on around him and focused on the girl in front of him.

One hand interlaced above the other he placed the heel of his hands in the middle of her chest and began chest compressions. After a count of thirty he tilted her head back, and pressed his mouth onto hers blowing well needed air into her lungs. No reaction-her lips was an unnatural shade of blue. He began another set of compressions- Count of thirty. Blow. She remained unnaturally still. Unwilling to give up on her He began a new set.

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><p>"Hey you're going to be okay. You're going to be just fine." Virgil Swann squinted not recognizing the face of the dark skinned woman leaning over him. He blinked. The sun behind her was too bright it hurt to focus.<p>

"How's he doing" The newcomer was a lanky man in his late forties, who despite his question didn't seem worried. The man peered at him worriedly; his oversized glasses making his eyes look enormous.

"I need you to get up. Okay, can you do that?" the woman was talking to him again. He couldn't. He had been in a wheelchair for the past four decades. He couldn't move his legs. The woman stared at him expectantly waiting for him to get up. He couldn't… He couldn't.

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><p>Clark couldn't help the feeling of anger and disappointment. He should have stopped it, he should have saved them. A plane filled with what had to be around 300 hundred people, - innocent people. They didn't deserve to die; he should have found a way to save them.<p>

Around him those who miraculously survived where running scared, screaming, trying to save themselves. His eyes were drawn to a woman wearing a sparkly red dress. She was standing in the middle of the beach, her shoes in her hands. She looked like she should be at some fancy dinner or a grand gala- not a victim of a plane crash. There were dozens like her all around. People who took time to planned their holidays months in advance. They didn't deserve this. No one deserved this. They were terrified.

Frustrated, and unsure what to do He ran his fingers through his messy, jet black hair. He turned around slowly on the spot, taking in the scene. He needed to find his parents, make sure they're okay.

"Dad… Mum!" His could feel his heart racing rapidly as he tried to separate his parents faces from the panicked scared ones surrounding him.

"Dad!" _They couldn't be...? _No, he refused to finish that sentence. This was his family, they couldn't be.

"Muuuuumm?"

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><p><em>"Oh my god!"<em>

Lois watched the devastating scene unfolding around her. Shards of metal were scattered everywhere. The plane was in ruins. With hazardous pieces decorating the sandy white beach. It looked like some sort of jigsaw puzzle. And she remembered hating jigsaw as a kid because she never had the patience to put all the pieces back together. But this was different, she couldn't just shove all the pieces back the box and go play with something else. She couldn't fix this. This couldn't be real; it had to be, some kind of bad dream- a nightmare. This can't be.

Lois tried to inhale deeply in order to clear her head. But all she managed was inhaling a lung full of smoke. She couldn't breathe. The fumes and smoke polluting the air was forcing itself down her throat, clogging it. Instantly her body responded, coughing and wheezing trying to get rid of the harmful substance. Her throat was raw and sore making it painful to breathe.

By now she was use to the stinging as her eyes adjusted to the thick smoke. Lois raised her hands to cover her nose and mouth as another onslaught of coughs ravaged her lungs. She peered through the thick clog of smoke desperate to find a familiar face.

_God!_ She couldn't believe anybody survived that crash. She couldn't believe _she_ had survived that crash. She shook her head firmly, as though that act alone would prevent her mind from replaying what she thought was, -would have been her final moment alive. She could still hear their screams. Her ears were ringing, her head pounding as she tried to focus.

So many people died in that crash. She was just... lucky? She needed... She needed to find her father, and her cousin. She needed to make sure that her family was okay

_Focus Lois_

"Chloe?" She yelled her voice strained and raspy from inhaling all that smoke.

"Chloe? Dad?" She searched frantically trying to find even a glimpse of both the curly blond hair of her cousin or the balding head of her surly overprotective father. All around her those who managed to survive was searching for their own family, some helping those injured. Dragging them a safe distance away from the crash.

"Chloe, Chlo…"

No they had to be here somewhere. They had to have survived that crash.

"Daaad!" another assault of raspy coughs over took. She stood legs shoulder length apart, hands on knees, back hunched. She tried to breathe in deep, calm herself, she needed to think straight. Finally gaining some sort of control over herself she stood up straight. A wave of relief hit her as she finally found someone she recognized.

"Uncle Gabe?"

Gabe Sullivan stood about 60 feet away from the crash. Struggling to stand up still, -Seeming almost in a daze. Lois took all this in as she raced to her uncle. She swallowed the guilt she felt given that it hadn't even crossed her mind to look for him. Gabe Sullivan might not be her favourite family member, but he was still her uncle.

"Uncle Gabe" She said placing her hands on his shoulder in order to steady him.

"Uncle Gabe." She raised her voice "Are you okay?"

She struggled to hold the man as he swayed on his feet. Unable to hold his own weight anymore, he fell. He was lucky that the sand somewhat broke his fall. Lois knelt down in front of him, trying to prevent his feeble attempts of getting up.

"Chloe," He wheezed struggling to catch his breath. "I need to find Chloe."

"I know we just need to take care of you first." Lois tried to assure him.

"No! No" he shook his head stubbornly. "I... need to ... I need to find my daughter."

"Okay." Lois agreed, forcing a smile on her face to calm him down. "We'll find Chloe. We just need to make sure you're okay." Physically the man looked fine. No sign of blood anywhere. He looked a little out of it though. He was covered in ash, he's face was dirty, his clothes torn. Lois decided though that she probably looked the same.

"No!" he protested no doubt picking up on her condescending tone. "She was in the tail." At Lois's confused expression He grabbed her hand, desperate to make her understand.

"She was in the tail. There's no tail. Chloe... Your dad... They were in the tail of the plane. The tail… it's gone."

It was then that Lois turned around to notice that the wreck which landed on this beach wasn't the entire plane. Somewhere during the crash they lost the front of the plane as well as the tail- where not only Chloe but her father as well was sitting.

"It's gone"

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><p>Adam groaned in pain as he raised his stiff body off the cold floor. Last thing he remembered the plane was crashing. Then … well, nothing.<p>

All around him there were more bodies than he could bother to counting slumped like ragged dolls- most of them still in their seats. Oxygen masks were dangling above; the bright orange-yellow colour hurt his eyes to look at. His head ached. It was throbbing so hard he couldn't think.

Something was missing. Trying to swallow the panic, he felt around him. Sighing in relief as his hands closed around the familiar backpack. He opened it, relaxing when he realised nothing was missing, and better even- broken.

He couldn't stay here. Not with all these -people. He had to get out. Another groan escaped him, his headache wasn't easing up. He needed to get out.

The plane was split open. Bright lights flooded in at every angle. He raised his right hand and cupped it above his eyebrows squinting into the blinding white light.

"Help me " _What the?_. "Please." He turned around his eyes frantically scanning the plane full of scattered bodies. They all looked dead, still.

"Shit!" One of it moved – one of _it_ frickin' moved.

"Help me." Adam tried to calm down. He could hear the sound of his heart beating fiercely against his chest. He swallowed his discomfort as he approached it- her. His body was on alert. Adrenalin pumping through his veins, his breathing accelerated. She was tugging at her seatbelt, trying to get it loose. He shook the fact from his mind that he had to pass through rows of dead bodies to get to her. Wordlessly he moved her hand away from the buckle. And felt her relaxed slightly. He struggled with it also but, it wouldn't unbuckle. It loosened though. After a minute of him fiddling with it, it loosened enough for her to get through. Without a word he helped her slip out of her buckle.

Adam forced himself to stay still. No sudden movements or sounds.

"Thank you." She whispered. He could see her face properly now, as she stood in the blinding light. Her brown hair was a curly tangled mess. Her fringe falling into her dark brown eyes.

"We've got to go." He said also whispering, moving to make his point.

"No." The plea in her voice resonated around the small space. "We can't leave him behind." She said indicating to a man she was previously sitting next to.

"He's dead. We've got to go now!" Harsh, But, he wasn't comfortable standing around dead people.

"No! His not his still got a pulse. I checked. We can't leave him here."

"Listen lady, I did my good Samaritan deed. I helped you. Now we need to get out of here." He struggled not to fidget as she stared him down. Her brown eyes fierce, daring him to defy her. He felt like his manhood was being judged. "Fine."

He couldn't believe he was letting her win. His lifted his hands to check the guy's neck for a pulse. She was right, he wasn't dead. Adam unbuckled they guy's seatbelt. He took the magazine lying on the guys lap and tossed it on the floor. There was no way he could lift the guy. So he pulled him into the aisles with the intention of dragging his body out.

"_Could you give me a hand?"_ He hissed, after all she was the damn reason he was dragging an unconscious body. She scrambled towards him, ready to help

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><p>John looked around for someone to help. He was a police officer and this is what he did. Even when off duty he could never ignore the cry of those in need of help. He went to the nearest person he could find. The young lady was kneeling in the sand trying to help a man. The man was twice her age old enough to be her father. For all John knew, he probably was.<p>

"Need a hand?" Lois peered up at the dark skinned man who asked her the question.

"Yeah." she answered her voice wavering a little. She cleared her throat upset at herself for not staying strong. "Am not sure… I think He's got a concussion or he could be in shock. I just need to get him away from the Fumes."

John nodded.

"Okay." He said bending down to put one of the man's arms around his neck holding on to it. He gestured for the girl to do the same. "On three?" She nodded. "One... Two..." "Three" he grunted. Together, though struggling they managed to get the man up and started dragging him away from the crash site. Once they arrived at what John deemed to be a safe distance away from the crash site he nodded at Lois and they dumped the body in the sand.

"I guess I should thank you." She said out of breath.

"No need to." John answered. She nodded her head accepting his answer. Not fighting it.

* * *

><p>Eric lied there crushed under the plane wing. He could feel the weight of it pressing down into his chest slowly suffocating him. He couldn't breathe. His throat was raw and aching from all the screaming and yelling he had done before. No one was going to save him; they were too busy saving themselves. He let out a dry cough. The pain is his chest was unbearable. He bit his lips to stop himself from screaming in agony. His head was swarming. His vision was blurry. He just wanted the pain to end. It didn't matter if he lived or died, as long as the pain ended<p>

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><p>When Jimmy Olsen woke up it was in a face full of sand. For a second he wondered where he was, his mind too fuzzy to connect the dots. He pushed himself up, coughing and spitting trying to get rid of the disgusting, grainy mouthful of sand he tasted while heads down. Pushing himself up further his mind jolted into action and he remembered.<p>

"Holy!" He remembered pulling the oxygen mask on his face. Feeling the plane dip, losing control to gravity. He should be dead.

"Holy" he muttered again. It couldn't be. This stuff happened in the movies, with stunts and sets. Not in real life. A hollow laugh escaped him. He was standing now, patting his arm and face to prove he was still alive and... Awake. Holy fuck. Who the hell survives a plane crash? He felt his photographer side take control as he turned on the camera still slung around his neck. Miraculously enough it was still working- functioning as good as ever. Though he's chest would probably bruise from the impact of landing on it. He snapped a couple of photographs of the crash at different angles. He was so into it he almost forgot-

A heart wenching cry snapped him out of it.

"Holy ..!" That's when Jimmy realised the true impact of what happened. What a plane crash meant. This wasn't just some video game or a...a... movie. This was real. This was happening.

"Jesus-" all around him people was screaming for help, searching for aid. This couldn't be happening. He was dreaming. Right! He slapped himself. The sting on his right cheek proved to him for a second time that he was wide awake. This... This was real.

Jimmy looked around at the chaos unsure of what to do.

"Help!" He spun around trying to locate the voice among at least a dozen different cries of help.

"Someone please, help me." Why is it that one seemed to stand out among the others? When he finally located that certain plea for help he couldn't hide his shock. That was one hell of a coincidence.

Those huge hazel eyes begging for help.

"Lana." He didn't even realised his legs where moving on their own accord until he reached her. Relief showed on her face as she recognized him.

"Jimmy." She breathed. Her hand reached out drawing him closer. "Your name's Jimmy? Right!"

Jimmy nodded his head, unable to contain a smile on his face at the fact that she remembered his name. He was drawn back to her eyes and noticed the tear streaks that marred her mascara. She was bitting her lips as an attempt to stop it from trembling.

"I need you to help me. Please!" She begged "You've got to help me."

"Uh… Yeah, sure." Jimmy nodded "What do you need?"

"My leg" Jimmy let his eyes drift to her leg. She was lying in the sand sprawled on the floor. A metal shard -that was once part of the plane- was wedged into her right thigh, pinning her leg into the sand. And there was blood- Lots of it; everywhere. Jimmy didn't even know where to start. Was he supposed to remove the metal bit? It was huge, Four times bigger than his own head and looked really heavy, not to mention sharp. And if he did remove it she wouldn't ... like bleed to death, would she?

"Jimmy, please?"

Jimmy swallowed. Clearly she was in pain. There had to be someone who was more qualified to do this?

"Look" He said "You need a doctor or a medic. Or at the very least someone who knows first aid."

"Look" She cried "You can't exactly call 911 for this. I need you to do something. Please." She was getting hysterical.

"Okay." He nodded. "Okay".

* * *

><p>Whitney noticed the young man frantically waving his hands in the air. "Help? Help." Being a U.S marshal his training kicked in and he found himself at the man's side. "We need your help. She needs your help. It's stuck and an am not sure if I should pull it out or keep it in. And there's like a lot of blood-"<p>

"Okay." Whitney interrupt the panicked man "You need to breathe" The man took a breath than another, than five. "Okay that's enough breathing." he interrupted before the guy probably start hyperventilating. "Now tell me what's wrong?"

"She needs your help, man." Whitney looked over at the 'she' the guy was pointing at. She was a girl in her early twenties, dark raven hair and a huge piece of metal poking out of her leg.

"Okay" Whitney agreed. "Sure." "Hey, you." He said grabbing a man around his age. He looked strong, blondish-brown hair. "We need your help." "And you" Whitney yelled at a young black man who seemed to be doing nothing. "Over here." The guy looked over his shoulder around him. Unsure he was the one being yelled at. "Yeah, you" Whitney yelled annoyed. Once they were all surrounding her leg he assessed the damage. He was no doctor, but there was no way they could leave that piece of metal in her leg.

It was going to hurt like a bitch. But, they couldn't just leave it and hope it will sort itself out. Afterwards he'll do his best to patch it up.

"So what do you need us to do?" The dark skinned man asked.

"We need to remove the piece of metal." He stated. "Then we'll drag her away from all these fumes she's breathing in, after that we patch her up- best we can." The two he recruited nodded to his surprise.

"Are you sure?" Asked the idiot with the camera slung across his neck. "I mean no offence… but, you're not a doctor. She could get an infection. And shouldn't we at least like knock her out. Some sort of sedatives. I mean ... it's going to hurt- like a lot… And if we mess it up and she's aware the whole time, which means she'll feel everything." Whitney swore. Didn't that guy learn any tact? He watched the girl's face whiten. Her eyes now filled not only with pain but with immense fear.

"What's your name?" he asked her, ignoring the idiot.

"Lana." He smiled at her hoping it will help a little. He needed her to trust him.

"Lana, we're going to pull a piece of metal out of your leg. And it's going to hurt. But there's no way we can leave it in" Lana nodded meekly.

"Pains a good thing right" the young black man input. "If she can feel pain in her leg it means she hasn't lost it.

"Just-"Her voice was soft, A painful whisper. "Do what you need to do." She closed her eyes, unable to watch. Waiting for what was sure to be unbearable pain.

"On three" Whitney barked not giving the girl a chance to change her mind "one ... two..." On three the four of them- Jimmy included. Pulled and tug; the metal scraping and scratching their hands. Whitney pulled trying not to let Lana's painful screams deter him.

"Oh God." Jimmy muttered his face pale.

"C'mon" Whitney muttered tugging, as Lana kept shrieking in pain. Finally after what seemed like an eternity. It was out. Lana let a sob escape as they dumped the bloody piece of metal next to her.

* * *

><p>Any relief Nell felt at finally finding her niece disappeared upon seeing her being carried by three unknown men whimpering in pain. Lana was Shaking uncontrollably , tears and snot pouring down her beautiful face. Her maternal instinct kicked in as she raced to her niece.<p>

"Lana, Lana. What's wrong with her?" Nell demanded seeing Lana being dumped on the sand by the men. "What happened?"

"You - You know her?" The question was asked by a bumbling young man with a camera slung around his neck. She ignored that question, and whoever asked it entirely. Nell knelt down as they placed Lana on the sand. It was then that she noticed Lana's blood everywhere. On the sand, all over the unknown men that were previously carrying her, soaking Lana's denim jeans

"Oh- Someone do something." She yelled. "HEEELLLPPPP!", "Lana…, Lana?" She yelled repeatedly, trying to get the young girl to focus on her. Lana didn't though. Her huge hazel eyes drooped close, and her body slumped into the sand as she sank into oblivion.

* * *

><p>Helen Bryce starred at the younger man with the sharp tongue who was returning her glare with no sign of backing down. What he was still doing here she had no clue. She was thankful he had helped her inside the plane, she truly was. But as he himself said, he had done his <em>'good Samaritan'<em> deed. So why the hell was he was still around shadowing her every step.

"Lana! Lana. What wrong with her? What happened?" The cry brought her out of the never ending starring contest she seemed to be a part of. Turning her back on' Mr Good Samaritan' she pushed her way through the small group that had gathered around _'Lana'_. Crouching next to the younger girl Helen assessed her injury.

"Lana" She said using the calm, trustable voice she saved for patients. "My name's Helen Bryce. Am a doctor I can help you." Before she even got the sentence out Lana had already slipped into unconsciousness.

Though she felt bad for girl Helen couldn't help being thankful for this. It gave her a purpose. In her very core Helen was a Doctor; and doing this was the only way she could deal with everything.

She quickly got to it. Barking orders at those standing uselessly around; they all scattered searching for what the doctor required. Looking around the beach for scattered luggage that could have stuff useful to her, equipment the Doctor needed in order to work with

All save for the woman who made herself known to Helen as "Nell Potter". Nell refused to remove herself from Lana's side. Helen interrogated the woman for anything she should know about Lana, allergies, illnesses, medical history etc.

Time flew by as Helen set to work; it was almost like she was back at home. She lost herself, immersed in her work.

* * *

><p>It would be dark soon. His watch was still set to metropolis time, so how soon that would be the Professor wasn't sure.<p>

"We need to start collecting dry wood. Lots of it. Make a fire-It'll keep us warm."

Joseph Willowbrook didn't voice that he was hoping the fire would draw attention to a rescue team he hoped was currently searching for them. No he kept those thoughts to himself. He looked at the faces around him. Those who had managed to survive had all congregated on this area of the beach. Far up enough up shore that they wouldn't be bothered by the rising tide.

"How long do you think?- Until rescue comes?" It was a girl who asked, the question wasn't aimed at anyone in particular. She was scared the Professor noticed. They all were. He was too. He also noticed the girl was shivering, the wether cooling due to nightfall heading there way and that shiny red dress of hers was providing no insulation to the cold.

"The plane had a black box. We won't be stuck here long." Genevieve Teague, the woman had made herself known, and not in a good way. "My husband is one the worlds most renowned and highly payed lawyers. By tomorrow we'll have left this godforsaken island behind" The woman spoke with conviction.

"It doesn't matter." The professor spoke up. "What matters is that fire. It'll keep us warm. And not to mention it will be a provision of light. I think Doctor Bryce would appreciate that"

"Let's get started on that fire then." Jason Teague said standing up. Others rose as well to help. As much as he didn't respect Genevieve Teague Joseph hesitated to say the same for her son. The boy was hard working; he actually worked to achieve what he desired rather than following his mother who chose to instead insult those who didn't follow her orders to the level she wanted. Hopefully the boy will be strong enough that his mother's influences won't sway him in the wrong direction. . He shook his head wondering why he was concerning himself with such matters. What the Teague's did where their business. What did it concern him?

* * *

><p>Clark stayed sited as the others got started on the fire. The whole thing was frustrating. He kicked the sand dejectedly.<p>

"Hey, watch it" The surprised cry was the only thing that had seriously caught his attention since the crash.

He looked up shocked when he recognised the face frowning at him.

"_You?"_ She seemed surprise to see him as well. "It's not bad enough that you sexually harassed me, now you're going to bury me in sand". _Sexually harassed?_ In another situation he would have brushed as bright as the bright red jacket he was currently wearing. It was the woman he accidently bowled over on the plane. What was only a few hours ago now felt like a lifetime.

"Sorry." He muttered.

He went back to his thoughts only to be distracted when he felt someone sit next to him. He turned to see her siting only 10 cm to him. What was it exactly she wanted? He turned away from her as she shifted to get comfortable.

"You know, personally I never got the whole brooding thing" The only repose Clark gave was a slight nod out of politeness. They sat in silence for a few seconds "Am Lois. Lois Lane" She stuck her hand out to greet him. Clark looked at the hand she stuck in his face for a moment. Then at Lois's face that seemed to scream _well!_

"Clark Kent" He grasped her small hands, shaking it before they went back to the silence that Lois once more interrupted.

"Is this it then?" She asked. He turned to look at her trying to understand her question. "Do we just sit here useless, doing nothing? Just waiting to be rescued."

"We sleep." Clark said, surprising even himself that he was talking to her. " There's not much we can do in the dark… So, we wait till the sun rise tomorrow" her neck snapped to look at him. She opened her mouth to say something. But, whatever it was Clark caught her off. "My parents were sitting towards the end of the plane when it got caught off."

It was the first time he heard those words out loud. "So tomorrow I go looking for them and any other survivors."."

Her face soften, it was the first time he'd seen her look at him with something other than annoyance, mockery or superiority.

"My dad and my cousin- Chloe; they were sitting in the tail of the plane as well…- To be honest, am still surprise am still holding it together. It just-"She paused searching for the words, unsure of how to proceed. "It doesn't feel real. You know… like reading the pages of a book… So I understand. You wanting to give your parents a proper goodbye, am sorry for your loss.-"

"My parents aren't dead" Clark interrupted.

Lois gave him another sad look. Clark preferred the annoyed look he'd began to identify her with, rather than the one she was giving him now. She was looking at him as though he was a little child who didn't understand.

"Listen Kent, It's good to know that you're an optimistic kind of person. But, let's be real here. What are the chances of their being any survivors?" Lois had to force the words out of her mouth. It felt foul but, she needed it. She needed to accept what was going on. It wasn't normal that she had yet to properly grieve the loss of her father and Chloe. "Face it. What are the chances of anybody surviving that crash?" She asked choking down the foul taste

Clark's baby blues caught her eyes, stoping her from saying anything else. She could see that her logic hadn't swayed him.

"Don't you think they're saying the same thing about us?" That's stoped her thinking process. A quick response was ready at the tip of her tongue. But, it never made it out. His words kept ringing in her head.

_Don't you think they're saying the same thing about us?_

* * *

><p><em>AN- What do we think. Good... Bad?. Suggestion, comments. Please take the time to review. Even if its to tell me what you didn'td like about it._

_Thank you for reading :D_

_and please review_


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